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“Out of the water he was even more beautiful than in it.” 

(The Fairy Fish, page Si!) 





THE 


CLOUD BIRD 


by 


'y^MsiTgaret C 



M 


Illustrated by 

Edith Ballinger Price 


PUBLISHED BY 
THE DAVIS PRESS, INC. 
WORCESTER, MASS. 





Copyrighted by 
Margaret C. Getchell 
Worcester 
1916 



NOV 181916 


©CI.A‘145(j96 






tar- 


5 


TO 

MY MOTHER 
WHO IS ALWAYS 
MY GREATEST HELP 
AND BEST CRITIC 
THIS LITTLE BOOK 
IS LOVINGLY 
DEDICATED 





Contents 


The Cloud Bird 

9 

The Polar Bear .... 

i6 

The Fairy Fish 

. 25 

The Historic Rooster 

34 

The Adventurer in Armor . 

. 42 

Growler and Prowler 

52 

The City Editor 

. 59 

The Surprise Party 

69 


Illustrations 


Out of the water he was even more beautiful 
than in it 

She showed them by signs that the dresses 
were for them .... 

“You are like Peter Pan,” whispered 
Dorothy Ann softly 


Frontispiece 

24 

47 


When he reached them, his head was still 
above the water 


66 




D orothy ANN sat on the lounge by her window. 

It was so hot she could not go to sleep, and she de- 
cided she might just as well spend the rest of the night 
curled up on the window-seat watching the big, hot, 
tired-looking clouds languidly follow each other across 
the sky. Besides being so hot and tired, Dorothy Ann 
was a most unhappy little girl. All her small friends 
had gone to the sea-shore or mountains. Even Jimmie, 
who had expected to be in the city all summer, had 
been invited to visit his grandmother in Holden, and 
had left that day. 

‘‘Worcester is a horrid old place in the summer 
time, anyway,” said Dorothy Ann, looking out at the 
great hot sky above her. “Even the clouds are too 
hot and tired to hurry. But still they are on their 
way and will get out of Worcester some time, while 
I never, never shall.” 


lO 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


Just then she noticed that the clouds didn’t look 
as if they were bound for the mountains or sea-shore 
at all. They seemed to be doing all sorts of funny 
things — rolling over, standing on their heads, and cut- 
ting up such antics that she shouted with laughter. 
Suddenly the biggest cloud of them all turned a somer- 
sault, and, as if it had heard what she had said, came 
tumbling down toward her window. As it grew nearer, 
its cottony edges dropped off and it took on a definite 
shape, growing all the time whiter and whiter. 

“What a funny cloud!” cried Dorothy Ann. 
“Why, it doesn’t look like a cloud at all. It’s 
more like a bird, a big, white fluffy-puffy bird.” 

“That’s just what I am.” 

Dorothy Ann almost jumped off the sofa at the 
sound of the voice. It was a great, soft, comfortable- 
feeling voice, as if it might have been made of hundreds 
of tiny feathers. She put her hand against the screen 
and felt the soft, cool white on her hot palm. 


“Are you really a bird?” asked 
Dorothy Ann. “You look like one and you 
feel like one, but you are cool and white 
enough to be a cloud.” 



“You may call me a Cloud Bird, if you like.” 
“It must be lovely to be able to float about all 
night in the sky.” 


AMONG THE CLOUDS 


II 


“Why don’t you do it then, instead of staying 
in this hot room?” 

“I couldn’t, of course; I haven’t any wings.” 

“Why, I never thought of that. It’s too bad.” 

“Yes, isn’t it? And you have such beauties.” 

Dorothy Ann looked enviously at his great white 
wings. She could see from the way he bent 
his long neck to look at himself that he 
was pleased with her admiration. 

“I know what I might do,” he said. “Mine are 
so big, I’m sure I have enough for both. You could 
sit on my back right between them. There is plenty 
of room for you, you are such a little thing.” 

Dorothy Ann drew herself up straight so as to 
look as big as possible. “I’ve grown a whole inch in 
the last five months,” she said, reproachfully, for she 
was very sensitive about being small for her age. 

“Isn’t it lucky you didn’t grow any more?” said 
the Bird; “because if you had, I might not be able to 
take you.” 

“Yes, isn’t it? I never thought of that.” 

“I’ll hold myself sidewise by the window like this 
and then you can step out upon my back as if I were a 
white fur rug in an automobile.” 



12 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


Dorothy Ann tried to lift the screen, but the hot, 
muggy weather had made it stick. 

“Oh dear, oh dear, wouldn’t it be dreadful if I 
couldn’t open the window after all?” she said tragically, 
her mouth puckered up and her little stub nose wrink- 
ling in her tussle with the obstinate thing. 

“Let me help you.” And the Bird wedged his 
big beak underneath the screen. Then he opened his 
mouth, very slowly and carefully so as not to bring too 
sudden a strain upon his beak, and up went the screen. 

“Oh, what a useful sort of mouth to have,” cried 
Dorothy Ann in delight, pushing the screen up the 
rest of the way and stepping carefully out upon the 
bird’s back. 

How good the cool feathers felt under the soles of 
her little bare She curled herself up 

in the hollow between the wings, leaning 

against the back of his neck. It was a very 

long neck. As she looked up, it seemed to stretch way, 
way up into the sky. She wondered what kind of a 
bird he could be. She had never seen such a long neck 
before except on the Giraffe at the Philadelphia zoo, 
and the rest of him wasn’t the least bit like a giraffe. 

“Is there any place in particular you would like 
to go?” he asked. 


AMONG THE CLOUDS 


13 


“No, I don’t think so. Of course, I should love 
to see the ocean or some mountains, but I suppose 
they are too far off for a one night’s trip. ” 

“Not at all, not at all,” flying, as he 
spoke, right over Lake Quinsigamond 
toward Boston Harbor. 

On and on they flew, tilting this way and that with 
the wind. It seemed to Dorothy Ann more like sailing 
than anything else. They cut their way through the 
dark sky, occasionally passing a cloud which, upon 
nearer view, turned out each time to be a bird. Both 
birds always signalled to each other with their long, 
graceful necks, while Dorothy Ann waved. 

Soon they came to Boston Harbor and then to the 
ocean. Below them they could see the tossing waves 
and the lights of the boats. Dorothy Ann took great, 
deep breaths of the salt air. 

“Now let us go to the mountains,” said the Bird. 
“We are off the Maine coast and can turn in toward 
the White Mountains. There is one, now.” 

In a minute more she felt herself going up, up, then 
as suddenly turn and sail down. Up and down, up 
and down they went, over one mountain peak after 
another, Dorothy Ann holding on for dear life and 
squealing with delight. It was like coasting, except 
that they never had to walk up hill. 



14 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


They cut through the air so fast that they made 
a breeze where there was none before and Dorothy 
Ann was quite cool and comfy, when she stepped off 
onto the window sill of her own room at the end of 
the ride. 

“IVehad a perfectly lovely time,’’ she said, rub- 
bing her face against the Bird’s soft neck. “Oh, how 
I wish you were in Worcester in the day time!” 

“So I am.” 

“Really? Where?” Dorothy Ann’s eyes were 
big with astonishment. 

“Why yes, I am the new Swan Boat at Elm Park. 
I can take you to ride any day over there, if your mother 
will give you a nickle. ” 

“Why, I never knew there was such a 
lovely bird at Elm Park.” 

“There are no end of playthings for children in 
Worcester. You’ll find them if you stay here this 
summer. Good night.” 

“Good night. Swan. Good night, beautiful Cloud 
Bird.” 

Needless to say, the next morning found Dorothy 
Ann walking down the shaded side of the street toward 
the park. She had on her new blue hair-ribbon and 
in her arm she carried her doll. She had told Snowdrop 



AMONG THE CLOUDS 


IS 


all about the ride, and Snowdrop was very anxious to 
see the Swan. In her left hand she clutched tightly a 
large, shiny nickle — mother said she thought they 
wouldn’t charge for Snowdrop. It was an extra large 
nickle — the kind that has a buffalo on it — and so shiny 
it seemed as though the buffalo must have been coined 
especially for the swan-boat ride. 




XS£e 

POLAR 

BEAR 



O NE night Dorothy Ann went to bed early because 
she was very tired. She had been shopping in the 
afternoon with her mother. Shopping is tiresome, but 
it has two bright spots: the ice-cream soda and the 
Polar Bear. Dorothy Ann loves to sit on a high stool 
and watch the pink soda creep slowly up the straw. 
But she loves even better to pat the Polar Bear who 
stays all day on the side-walk in front of a Main Street 
clothing store. He is a great white fellow, and stands 
erect on his hind legs, with his immense claws stretched 
out. He is so big that he towers above the very tallest 
man who passes by, and he wears his fur coat even on 
the hottest days in summer. 

Besides being tired, Dorothy Ann had a head- 
ache. But she didn’t say anything about that for fear 
her mother would think it came from the ice-cream 
soda. It wasn’t a big ache, but it made the cars sound 
very loud indeed. The noise of one would just die 


THE POLAR BEAR 


17 


away in the distance, when another would come rum- 
bling and rattling up the hill. They came nearer and 
nearer until one seemed to stop right under her window. 
What a funny noise it made! It didn’t sound a bit like 
a car; it was more like grumbling and growling, — the 
growling of a bear. Dorothy Ann jumped up and ran 
to the window. Sure enough, right out there on the 
branch of the cherry tree was a great big bear. For 
a minute she was scared, but then she saw it was her 
friend, the big white Bear, of Main Street. 

‘‘Gr-r-r-r-r-i” growled the Bear. 

“How do you do,” said Dorothy Ann, supposing 
that must be what he was saying. 

“Come on out and have some cherries,” he said. 
“Jump. I’ll catch you.” 

Dorothy Ann jumped and landed right in 
his great furry arms. 

“I haven’t had a feast like this for ever so long,” 
he said, settling himself in the fork of the tree and eating 
great mouthfuls of cherries. “Sometimes the children 
bring me candy and pop-corn, but my mouth is so high 
up I don’t get much. Peanuts are the best because 
they can throw those. ” 

“What children.?” 

“Why, all the children are my friends, for there is 



i8 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


f hardly one in town who goes by without stop- 
ping to pat me. ” 

‘‘Have you always lived out there in the 
middle of the sidewalk.^’’ 

“Oh, dear no. I have only been there for twenty 
years. I was born in Greenland. That is a very cold 
country up near the north pole. The children there 
wear fur clothes all the time. They have never seen 
any pretty dresses like you buy at my store. I often 
think how much they would enjoy having one or two, 
just to dress up in. ’’ 

“Wouldn’t it be fun to take them some.^ I wish 
they weren’t so far oif. ” 

“That won’t make any difference if you really 
want to. We can run up and back tonight. I often 
do. You’d better get into some warm clothes though, 
for it is cold up there. ” 

The Bear picked Dorothy Ann up and set her back 
on the window sill. She quickly put on her clothes 
but hesitated between a blue and a plaid dress. Then 
she remembered the plaid one came from the store in 
front of which the Bear stood, so she decided it was the 
one to wear. When she went back to the window, the 
Bear smiled in appreciation of her thoughtfulness. 

“How many little girls are there up where we are 
going?” she asked anxiously. “I am afraid I haven’t 
enough dresses to go ’round. ” 


THE POLAR BEAR 


19 


“Oh, ni get the dresses,” said the Bear. “You 
see I do so much for the man who owns the store that 
he is always glad to do any little thing for me. Besides 
attracting the children, I make everyone know the 
place, and often letters come addressed to ‘The Store 
with the Bear in front of it, Worcester, Mass.’” 


f While he had been talking the Bear had 
caught Dorothy Ann again and climbed down 
the tree with her. Taking her little hand in 
his great paw, and walking on his hind legs, 
he led the way to the store. 


Dorothy Ann thought she had never had so much 
fun in so short a time as she did picking out dresses 
for all the little Esquimaux. The Bear knew where 
everything was to be found because, you see, he goes 
inside every night at six o’clock, and wanders about 
the store looking at the things until his bedtime, which 
isn’t until quarter of eight. 

“I like smocks the best,” he said, pushing his 
great paws through the sleeves of a green one embroi- 
dered in white, and waving them around like a fourth 
of July speaker, until Dorothy Ann shouted with 
laughter. “Well, everything is ready now. We will 
have to hurry if we want to get there tonight. ” As he 
spoke he shook the smock off his paws and wrapped 
up the dresses she had chosen in a big kimona, — size 


20 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


44. All the pretty dresses you can imagine were in 
that bundle. Dorothy Ann put in the brightest col- 
ored ones she could find because the Bear said they 
didn’t have any green trees and bright fruits and flow- 
ers up north. 

Then the Bear tied the bundle on his back for a 
saddle, and Dorothy Ann climbed up on top of it. Off 
they started, the Bear trotting faster and faster, over 
New Hampshire and Maine, then into Labrador, till 
they were flying over the ground in such great leaps 
that Dorothy Ann had to put her arms around the 
Bear’s neck to hold on. At last they came to the ocean. 

“Oh, what a wonderful fairy boat!” cried Dor- 
othy Ann. “Is it for us?” 

“It is for us, but it isn’t a boat. It’s an iceberg.” 

And so it was. It was bigger than any boat Dor- 
othy Ann had ever seen and it was shaped like a sail. 
In the center it was a beautiful deep blue, melting into 
paler and paler shades where it grew thinner at the 
edges. It floated silently and swiftly up to the shore. 
Without more ado the Bear and Dorothy Ann stepped 
aboard. There seemed to be a seat dug out for them 
in the ice, so the Bear sat down with Dorothy Ann in 
his arms. She was glad to be warmed by the shaggy 
fur, for she had grown very cold since she had left home. 

On the way over the Bear told her all about his 


THE POLAR BEAR 


21 


life, — how he had been born in Greenland and had lived 
there until he was five years old. ‘‘Then I was caught 
and taken to New York,” he said, “where I spent a 
year in a little shop off Broadway amidst my cousins, 
the grizzly bears from the Rocky Mountains. One 
day I was shipped to the store, where I have been living 
ever since, and where I am very happy because I have 
so many friends, particularly among the children. I 
am so sorry for the bears I see going by in the circus 
parades, because they are shut up in cages with 

chains. They look at me as though they envied 

me my freedom.” 

Just then they spotted land in the distance, which 
turned out to be Greenland. As they drew nearer they 
saw a crowd of excited children running about. And 
what funny children they were, with their little round, 
brown faces and their straight black hair! Both boys 
and girls were dressed in trousers of mottled sealskin 
and in bird-skin jackets, decorated with strips of rein- 
deer and edged with black dog-skin. 

They crowded about Dorothy Ann as she landed, 
jumping up and down in delight and pointing out to 
one another each newly discovered wonder of her cos- 
tume. If it gave them such pleasure just to examine 
her, you can imagine their glee when she undid her 
bundle and showed them by signs that the dresses were 
for them. In no time at all both boys and girls were 


22 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


togging themselves out in the American clothes. They 
put them on top of their own costume. She hadn’t 
brought any boys’ suits and she couldn’t make them 
understand her anyway, so she let them think that 
everyone in America wore dresses. 

Just at the height of the frolic some one gave an 
alarm, and in a twinkle the little Esquimaux fled in all 
directions. Dorothy Ann looked up and saw coming 
over the horizon a band of white polar bears. She 
wasn’t afraid because she had her Bear with her, but 
she noticed the Esquimaux were frightened of even 
him. The new-comers soon made friends with her 
Bear, while they looked at her curiously, rolling their 
heads from side to side on their long necks. But she 
nestled close to her protector and they did not touch 
her. After he had said how-d’ye-do all around, they 
decided it was time to start home. So they boarded 
their iceberg and sailed off. 

“How white they are!” said Dorothy Ann, looking 
at the bears on the shore. 

“Yes,” said the Bear. “I used to be as white as 
that. But a city is not so clean a place as Greenland. 
I should be unfit to be seen if it were not for my month- 
ly bath in gasoline, followed by a dry shampoo of corn- 

# starch. ” 

“And what funny little tails they have for 
such big animals!” 



She showed them by signs that the dresses were for them.” 




24 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


f “It is a sad fact, ” said the Bear sorrowfully, 
“ but you simply can not keep a tail in the city. 
I have had three of the cutest ones you ever 
saw, which I loved to wag at the children, but naughty 
boys have pulled them all off. I suppose I must be 
resigned to going through the rest of my life tailless, 
with nothing to wave to the children.’’ 


“We all know you would wave your tail if you had 
one,” said Dorothy Ann to comfort him. She suc- 
ceeded so well that they had a happy time all the way 
home. 


The last thing she thought of as she went to sleep 
was the cute little white tail the Bear had lost. 




S o many wonderful things happened to Dorothy Ann 
on the night when she took her first trip with the 
Swan, that there wasn’t room to tell them all in that 
story. One of the most important occurred as she was 
passing over the lake on her way home when she looked 
down, and saw a boy fishing in the lily pond. She 
recognized him right away, for she had often seen him 
during the day time in the big open place before the 
railway station, known as Washington Square. There 
he stands on a watering trough all day, a slender figure 
amid the great wagons and trucks which keep rolling 
by him on every side. In his hand he holds a fishing 
rod, as if he were baiting his hook. Dorothy Ann 
always waves to him when she passes through the 
square in a trolley car. 

But on the night when she flew over the lake on the 
Swan’s back he answered her wave for the first time. 
She was delighted, for he had never seemed to notice 


26 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


her before, and she asked the Swan to fly down so that 
she could get better acquainted with him. 

“We haven’t time to-night,” said the Swan; “but 
some other time I’ll bring you down on purpose to 
meet him.” 

“Does he go fishing every night she asked. 

“Of course. That is why he spends every day 
getting ready. ” 

All this happened on the first night when 
Dorothy Ann went to ride with the Swan. 
So when she was awakened about half past eleven a 
week later by a noise at the window, she was not at 
all surprised to see his beak pecking at the screen. 

“Want to go see the Fisher Boy.^” he asked. 

It was not many minutes before Dorothy Ann was 
cuddling into the white feathery hollow between the 
Swan’s wings, just as she had done on that first ride. 
Since then she had ridden with him often during the 
daytime at Elm Park, so they now felt quite like old 
friends. 

As they flew down over the hill the Swan gradually 
descended and when they came to the edge of the lake, 
he glided off upon the water so smoothly that he did not 
make even a splash. Up the lake he swam and Doro- 
thy Ann thought the motion more pleasant, though 



THE FAIRY FISH 


27 


not so exciting, as flying. Pretty soon they came to 
the little bridge under which she had once gone in a 
canoe with her father. Under it the Swan went and 
then under the second and still smaller bridge, into the 
lily pond. On a rock in the center stood the Fisher 
Boy, his line in hand as if on the point of beginning to 
fish. 

‘‘Ah, ha! Cloud Bird, so you brought Dorothy Ann 
with you to-night to see the fun, ” he said, as they silent- 
ly glided toward him. 

“Will it really be fun.^” asked Dorothy Ann doubt- 
ingly. “I am not very fond of fishing. The fish are 
so cold and clammy and they wriggle so when you take 
them off the hook. ” 

“Not the kind I catch,” said the boy laughing. 
“Wait and see. ” 

Dorothy Ann looked around her. Everywhere 
were lily pads and the closed lilies. 

“ I wish some of the lilies were open, just one or two 
so I could see how they look at night, ” she 
said wistfully. • 

“The fairies are inside asleep,” said the Boy. 
“They will come out at midnight. See, they are 
opening the shutters now. ” 


28 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


As he spoke a distant clock struck twelve. All 
around her Dorothy Ann saw the blossoms opening, 
at first slowly, then quickly, as if the fairies were push- 
ing out the shutters of their houses from the inside. 
From each white petal sprang a tiny fairy until the 
whole pond was sparkling with the glitter of their 
wings. They varied in height from the length of 
Dorothy Ann’s thumb to that of her middle 

finger, but each, down to the very tiniest, was 

perfectly formed. At first she thought they were white, 
but as they turned she could see every color in their 
irridescent wings and gauzy draperies. Then from the 
center of each blossom rose a fairy far more beautiful 
than the others, dressed in deep yellow, with shining 
wings as bright as sunbeams or the centers of pond lilies. 

In and out among them the Swan went, Dorothy 
Ann watching in delight the lovely little creatures. 
Then a soft breeze came up, blowing gently through 
the trees and playing a sweet melody among the pond 
lilies. With the first notes, each white fairy turned 
toward the golden one in the center, bowing low. 
Then in a flash all were off, dancing the grand right 
and left and passing lightly at each step from one petal 
tip to the next. 

“It is the fairy ball,” whispered the Swan. 

As the little creatures danced in and out, the 


THE FAIRY FISH 


29 


reflections in the water became a whirl of delicate 
colors, like a rainbow running riot. The music grew 
deeper and stronger, the fairies danced faster and 
faster, and the air as well as the water was brilliant 
with color. As Dorothy Ann watched she saw that 
they were tossing some bright colored things — she 
could not tell what — from their hands. Down these 
things fell into the water and swam off. 

“See how the Fisher Boy is working now,” said 
the Swan. 

Dorothy Ann looked around and there beside 
her he stood, catching fish as fast as he could. And 
such fish they were as she had never dreamed of, pale 
pink, deep rich blue, gleaming yellow, glowing purple, 
and sometimes all glorious colors blended into each 
other. As he caught them he dropped them into a 
basket beside him which was made of lily pads fastened 
together, with a lily stem over the top for a handle. 
Dorothy Ann looked into the basket a trifle timidly. 

“Touch them,” said the Boy, “they don’t feel 
like other fish.” 

She put her hands into the basket. 

“Why, I can’t feel them at all,” she said; “except 
that they are as light as air and deliciously cool.” 



30 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


“That is because they are Fairy Fish, ’’said the Boy. 


“What are you going to do with them ” she asked 
wonderingly. 


“I am going to take them back to Washington 
Square. They are not really fish at all, as you under- 
stand the word, for fairy fish are wishes. I take them 
back for the travelers, who are my especial friends, 
and whom I watch all day long as they pass in and out 
of the station on their way to and from the city. For 
each one I have a fairy wish. The air of Washington 
Square is full of them, but you can’t see them in the 
day-time. That is why I must go fishing every night 
and must spend all day in getting ready.” 


“But how do you know which wishes are 
for which people.^” 




“I can tell that by the colors. This deep blue one 
is for a little boy who is to start for the sea-shore to- 
morrow. His one great wish is to learn to swim. It 
takes its color from the ocean. The pink one is for a 
girl who is going on her first house party. It is just 
the color of her new evening dress, — rather a senti- 
mental shade, I think. That dull brown fish is for a 
little girl who is coming to visit her aunt. Her uncle 
keeps a drug store and her idea of earthly bliss is to 
have all the chocolate ice cream sodas she wants. I 
think she will get them, too.” 


THE FAIRY FISH 


31 


‘‘Oh, what is that pretty rose and gold one?’’ 

“That is for a young man who is going to a summer 
sketch class. He wants to be a great artist some day. 
The fish means inspiration and takes its color from the 
sunset. This bright green one is for a little lame boy 
who has never been outside of the city in his life. He 
is to be taken into the country where he can see the 
trees and grass and flowers for two whole weeks.” 

“And will the wishes all come true?” 

“Of course. Fairy wishes always come true.” 

Just then Dorothy Ann caught sight of a fish that 
was different from all the rest. It was much more 
beautiful and of all the colors of the rainbow. 

“Hello, what’s that?” said the Boy, spying him 
at the same time. “He isn’t a traveler’s wish and I 
don’t see how he ever got in here. I must catch him. ” 

He cast his line, but the fish was not to be caught 
so easily. Every time the boy thought he had him, 
the fish would shake himself off the line and escape, 
frisking away as if in sport. 

“Here, you try it, ” said the Boy, handing 
the rod to Dorothy Ann; “I can’t seem to get him.” 

So Dorothy Ann took the rod, cast the line into 
the water, and, sitting right there on the Swan’s back, 



32 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


tried to land the fish. In a minute he bit. Quickly 
she lifted the rod and tossed him right into her lap. 
Out of the water he was even more beautiful than in it. 
The Boy looked at him curiously. 


“I never saw a fish like that, and I don’t know 
quite what to make of him, ” he said, taking him up to 
toss him into the basket. But the fish slipped out of 
his fingers, back into Dorothy Ann’s lap. Three times 
the Boy tried to take him, but each time the fish slipped 
back. Dorothy Ann couldn’t help laughing at the 
two — the Boy looked so amazed and the fish 
so mischievous. 


‘‘You’d better stop trying to take him for your- 
self,” advised the Swan. “You wouldn’t know what 
to do with him if you succeeded, and I should think 
you could see that he is intended for Dorothy Ann.” 


“Of course,” said the Boy, “that is what he is, — a 
stay-at-home wish for a stay-at-home person. I 
haven’t seen one for so long I had forgotten what they 
looked like. It’s a wish that will bring you a good time 
through the rest of the summer.” 


“For me,” cried Dorothy Ann, taking the lovely 
thing up in her hands. “Can I carry him home with 


THE FAIRY FISH 


33 


“Yes, but you may not be able to see him in the 
day time, when every fairy-like thing is in hiding.” 

“But ril know he is there, because fairy wishes 
never can be lost,” said Dorothy Ann. 



‘‘TT 70ULD you like to go calling with me this after- 
VV noon?’’ asked Dorothy Ann’s mother. 

Dorothy Ann looked up undecidedly from her 
garden where she was pulling up the weeds, which 
seemed to grow over night. 

‘‘I am going to Aunt Marjorie’s, and you always 
like to go there, ” her mother added. 

‘‘Oh, I’d love to!” cried Dorothy Ann, all traces 
of hesitation fled at the mention of going to Aunt 
Marjorie’s. She jumped up and ran to her room to 
put on her clean white dress and new pink hair-ribbon. 

She didn’t generally care much about making 
calls, unless it was at Aunt Marjorie’s house. For she 
knew that while there she could slip out the back door 
and up the funny little path to the barn on which was 
the beautiful gold Rooster. 


THE HISTORIC ROOSTER 


3S 


As she went along the path, an hour or so later, 
she thought the Rooster must have known she was 
coming, for he suddenly wheeled around and looked 
at her. She almost thought he winked. Dorothy 
Ann stood long looking up at him. He was very 
beautiful and his spreading tail was magnificent. 

“I wish he could crow,” she said to the man who 
was feeding the real chickens below. 

“Perhaps he would, if you would come out here 
at daybreak. That is when roosters always do crow, ” 
the man answered. 

Of course Dorothy Ann knew he must be joking, 
but she couldn’t help thinking of what he said, par- 
ticularly when she woke up at dawn the next morning, 
a thing she almost never did. As she was lying in bed 
wondering whether or not he had been joking, she 
heard a funny hoarse sound, like a distant crowing. 

“It can’t be the Rooster,” she said to herself. 
“And yet it sounds as though it might be and it is just 
dawn. He is such a lovely one I don’t know why he 
shouldn’t do a simple thing like that that every com- 
mon rooster can do, even if he is gold. There isn’t 
any reason why I shouldn’t go to see, anyway.” 

With that, she crept downstairs and out the front 
door. She was in such a hurry that she ran until she 


36 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


fairly flew along the street. As she approached the 
barn she heard a sound like 

‘‘ Cluck-cluck-cluck, cluck-cluck ca-daa-cut, 
Cluck-cluck-cluck, cluck-cluck ca-daa-cut!’’ 

“That is more like a hen than a rooster,” she said 
to herself. But as she drew nearer, the cluck-cluck 
sounded like words, although the accent was the same, 
the voice going way up in the air on the next to the last 
syllable. By the time she reached the barn she could 
understand very clearly. The Rooster was clucking: 

“Oh, I am the historic Rooster, 

I’m proud to belong to old Worcester, 

I make every effort to boost her. 

But now I can’t crow as I used ter.” 

He clucked it along so evenly, except when his 
voice shot way up in the air on “Roost” and “Worces” 
and “Boost” and “used” that it was no wonder Dor- 
othy Ann thought he was saying “cluck-cluck-cluck, 
cluck-cluck, ca-daa-cut.” But the minute he spied 
her, he stopped and let out one glorious crow. She 
clapped her hands in delight and admiration. 

“I used to be able to crow much better,” he said 
modestly, “but one’s voice loses its best quality in 
a couple of hundred years.” 



THE HISTORIC ROOSTER 37 

‘‘My, I didn’t know you were that old,” said 
Dorothy Ann in wonder. 

“Yes, I am not so young as I was once. That is 
what I think when I get tired of life on a farm, which I 
do sometimes. ‘Rooster,’ say I to myself, ‘you are 
getting along in years, and the place for an old fellow 
like you is right here in the quiet of a barnyard. You’ve 
passed all your days in the midst of a city rush, and 
it’s high time for you to settle down. ’ Yes, I’m con- 
tented to pass my old age out here amidst the hens and 
chickens of the farmyard for I have much to look back 
upon. I was gay enough in my youth and many are 
the stories I could tell you of the times when Worcester 
and I were young together. ” 

“Oh, do tell them to me,” cried Dorothy Ann, 
always eager for a story. 

“Come up here, then,” he said, pointing to a lad- 
der that had been left standing against the side of the 
barn. She climbed up it and perched on the barrel- 
like thing underneath the Rooster. She was amazed 
to find how big he was when she got near him. He was 
longer than her father was tall, and his tail was the 
size of her bureau at home, although much thinner, 
of course. The sweep of his feathers was even more 
splendid near to than from a distance, and he caught 


38 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


the rays of the rising sun with a brilliancy that was 
dazzling. 

“I suppose you would like to hear about all the 
children I have known in my long life,” he began. 
‘‘You know I always lived until thirty years ago on 
the steeple of the Old South Church, which used to 
stand on the common, where the City Hall is now. I 
can remember many^ generations of little 

boys and girls, dating way back before the 

Revolutionary War. In those days the 

children wore very ^ plain clothes, and 
looked quite different from you of today. You have 
seen pictures of the Puritans so you know what solemn 
little gray dresses and suits they wore. They were 
expected to act solemnly, too, and were not supposed 
to romp. When I looked down from my steeple and 
saw the procession of them marching into the church 
below me, I used to think Sunday must have been the 
worst day of all for them. There was a crack in the 
roof of the belfry so I could get a peep down sometimes, 
when the wind was right. There were square family 
pews in those days and no cushions on the hard wooden 
seats. The smallest children sat on stools without any 
backs. And how long do you suppose the sermons 
lasted.?” 

“I’ve heard people say that our minister preaches 
twenty minutes,” answered Dorothy Ann. 


THE HISTORIC ROOSTER 


39 


‘‘Well, in those days, the minister had hardly got 
a start at the end of twenty minutes, ’’ said the Rooster. 
“And their sermons lasted from two to three hours. 
Just think of that! Even the grownups would some- 
times get so tired that they would begin to nod. Then 
the tithingman would come around with a long pole 
called the tithing pole, on one end of which was a 
squirrel’s tail and on the other a hard wooden knob. 
He would interrupt the nap of the sleeper by tickling 
his nose with the fur, and when the children whispered 
he would hit them on the head with the hard knob, 
which hurt considerably.” 

“But there was much happening in those days 
besides church going. They were exciting times. I 
saw the Minute Men gather below me to start out in 
the Revolutionary War. From in front of my church 
Isaiah Thomas read the Declaration of Independence 
on the Fourth of July, 1776, and that was the first time 
it was read in Massachusetts. I saw the soldiers 
gather in 1861. I saw ” 

But Dorothy Ann never learned what else he saw. 
For the last few minutes he had been twisting and 
turning so that she lost over half of what 
he said. Now he was whirling around 
so fast that she could not understand 
him at all. 



40 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


“This has always been the one trouble with my 
occupation,’’ he said, becoming quieter. “Whenever 
I would be watching anything especially interesting, the 
wind would change its direction and turn me tail to it. 
See, here comes another gust. ” And with that he was 
off again, whirling this way and that, which Dorothy 
Ann thought must be great fun. 

“Climb up,” he said, at the next lull, as if reading 
her thoughts. She did not wait to be invited twice, 
but was settled on his back in front of his beautiful 
spreading tail by the time a fresh gust came. The 
wind seemed to know she wanted a ride, and began 
suddenly to blow in a perfect gale, changing its direc- 
tion every second. Around and back she whirled, until 
the merry-go-round was tame in comparison. 

“When you want to go home, let go,” said the 
Rooster. “You have such a start you will blow home 
now, and the wind is in just the right direction.” 

When Dorothy Ann had gone around so much 
that she thought she would have no breath left if she 
went any further, she let go. And sure enough, the 
wind carried her, just as the Rooster had said, down the 
middle of the street and landed her on her front porch. 
She opened the door and ran quickly upstairs. 

There was not a soul stirring yet, and the wind 
had made her so sleepy she decided to go back to bed 


THE HISTORIC ROOSTER 


41 


and have another nap before it was time to get up. 
As she was dozing off she was very glad there was no 
tithing man to wake her up by tickling her nose with 
the squirrel’s tail. And the wind, rustling through 
the tree outside her window, seemed to be whispering 
to her: 

“Oh, I am the historic Rooster, 

I’m proud to belong to old Worcester ^ 

I make every effort to boost her. 

But now I can’t crow as I used ter.” 




O NE time when Dorothy Ann’s mother and father 
went out to spend the evening, Dorothy Ann sat up 
very late reading about the knights of King Arthur’s 
Round Table. It was long after eight o’clock when 
she finished her chapter, at the end of which she had 
promised her mother she would go to bed. 

“Oh, dear,” she sighed, cuddling up in the corner 
of her lounge, “it is much more comfortable here than 
in bed, and I am not one bit sleepy. What wonderful 
adventures the knights of the Round Table did have! 
But I seem to have adventures too. The chief differ- 
ence is that I don’t gird on my armor and go in quest of 
them. I wonder if anybody has armor now-a-days. 
I do wonder. ” 

Dorothy Ann thought of all her most adventurous 
friends, the Swan, the Polar Bear, the Rooster, the 
Fisher Boy, but none of them wore armor. 

“I don’t believe there is a single armor in town,” 


THE ADVENTURER IN ARMOR 


43 


she said aloud; “unless it is on the Turtle at Salem 
Square. He certainly wears something which looks 
like one. ” 

The more she thought about him, the more certain 
she was that he was the one Armored Adventurer in the 
city and the more she longed to discover how often he 
started out on his quests and where he went. 

“I know what ril do; Fll go ask him.’’ 

You may have noticed that it never takes Dorothy 
Ann long to do a thing after she has made up her mind, 
so that in a few minutes she was on her way over the 
hill toward Main Street. The blocks seemed much 
shorter at night than in the daytime, and she was sur- 
prised to find how quickly she reached the common. 
As she crossed it towards Salem Square, she saw that 
there was a struggle taking place on the watering 
trough between the Boy and the Turtle. The Turtle 
seemed to be trying to get away and the Boy to prevent 
his doing so. 

“I can’t hold him back much longer,” said the 
Boy as soon as he spied Dorothy Ann. “I have held 
him all day, and the strain has been worse than usual 
so that my strength is almost gone.” 

“I always noticed you seemed to be trying to keep 
him from getting away. Where does he want to go?” 


44 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


‘‘Oh, he is a great adventurer. See, he is girding 
up his armor now. He is a Sea Turtle and does not like 
staying out here in the street. In the daytime when 
the sun beats down upon him he is quite weak and I 
can easily hold him, but he gets stronger and bigger 
as night comes on. He has grown several 
inches since you came down. ” 

“Why, so he has!” said Dorothy Ann wonderingly. 
“He will surely get away from you now.” 

“Oh, no he won’t,” laughed the Boy mischievous- 
ly. “When he is big enough I get on his back and go 
with him. I wouldn’t trust him to come back in the 
morning, if he went alone. There will be room for 
you, too, if you would like to go along tonight. Here, 
crawl up on top the armor, ” he added, holding out his 
hand to her without waiting for any answer further 
than her dancing eyes. 

In a minute she felt the Turtle move forward. 
She turned around in terror, thinking she was being 
carried off alone. But the Boy was taking a running 
jump and landed on the back of the Turtle just the way 
the boys who “push off” get on the end of double-run- 
ners in the winter when you think they will surely be 
left behind. 

Down the street ran the Turtle, which had now 
grown quite enormous, all four legs going so fast you 



THE ADVENTURER IN ARMOR 


45 


could hardly see them, his head bobbing up and down 
in front and his tail wagging from side to side in back. 

‘‘How did you and the Turtle ever happen to be at 
Salem Square?” asked Dorothy Ann as soon as she 
got her breath after the first plunge. “And were you 
ever a real boy?” 

“No, not what you would call real,” he answered, 
with oh such a wonderful silvery laugh, which seemed 
to be made up of the singing of birds, the rustling of 
the wind through the trees of a forest, the rippling of 
a brook, and the thousand and one murmurings of the 
woods, all blended together. “I am a faun.” 

Dorothy Ann looked around, not understanding 
him, at which that wonderful laugh again filled the air. 

“Don’t you know what a faun is? How ignorant 
you worldly children are! You see, a faun is not a 
child of the world of men; he is a child of the woods. I 
lived all my life until I came to Worcester among the 
trees of the forests. My friends were the animals 
and the birds. See how they recognize me for one of 
them.” 

As he said this he began to call with sounds as 
strange and musical as was his laugh. They 
were now going through a country road and, 
as he called, the birds woke from their 



46 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


sleep and flew in great flocks to the edge of the woods, 
answering him with a chorus of song. The bunnies 
popped out of their burrows, the squirrels came 
scampering over the stone walls, even the blind moles 
crawled up from their dark underground houses. 
Dorothy Ann glanced back at the Boy. His eyes were 
sparkling as if reflecting the light of the fireflies, his 
body swayed back and forth in answer to the calls of 
his friends like the graceful tops of poplars in a breeze, 
and his whole being seemed to laugh with the joy of 
outdoors. 

“You are like Peter Pan,’’ whispered Dorothy 
Ann, softly, as if afraid her voice would be a strange 
sound in this new world she was in. 

“Yes, except that he was a human baby at first 
and I never was. See, this wreath in my hair is as 
fresh and green as if it were still in the forest where it 
grew. Yet it has kept alive, even in the midst of the 
city, for months. ” 

They were now getting near the seashore. Dor- 
othy Ann took in great deep breaths of the salt air. 

“You haven’t told me yet how you and the Turtle 
happened to go to Worcester,” she said. 

“Several years ago,” he answered, “a lady died 
and left some money to have a drinking trough made 
for the horses. The sculptor chosen to plan it knew 



“ You are like Peter Pan,” whispered Dorothy Ann softly. 




48 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


he must please the horses, so he came out into the woods 
where I was living and where he could get in touch 
with animals and learn their tastes better than in the 
city. It was there that I met him, and we straightway 
became good friends. I promised to find him an animal 
for his fountain. Well, we looked everywhere, but 
none of them wanted to leave the country until at last 
we came across this Turtle, whose love of adventure 
made him jump at the p chance of living in the 

city. Then, too, his ar- mor gives him greater 

protection against the disasters that might befall an 
animal in the unnatural rush of Salem Square.” 

‘‘But how did you happen to come with him?” 

“Oh, the sculptor found that the novelty was going 
to wear off soon, and so it did. The Turtle enjoys being 
in the city for a little while each day, but then the 
wanderlust comes and he wants to go on to explore 
new places. So the only thing was for me to come too, 
to hold him. ” 

“But didn’t you hate to leave the woods?” 

“In a way,” said the Boy. “But I felt so sorry 
for the thirsty horses that I was glad to do it. Then, 
too, I like to watch the human little boys, who come 
constantly to play with me and my Turtle. And every 
night on my trips with him I can see my old friends and 


THE ADVENTURER IN ARMOR 49 

have adventures. So I really don’t think I should 
like to go back to the woods now.” 

Just then Dorothy Ann looked up and saw they 
were almost at the ocean. Ahead of them was a high 
rock cliif, up which the Turtle moved faster when he 
saw the cool water so near. 

‘‘Oh, dear!” cried Dorothy Ann, in distress and 
alarm. “He will jump in and we’ll all be drowned. 
Stop, Mr. Turtle, please, please stop, and let me off.” 

“Don’t be afraid,” said the Boy reassuringly. 
“We’ll come up all right and it’s lots of fun. It’s just 
like a shoot-the-chutes, only better.” 

Nevertheless, Dorothy Ann caught her breath 
as the Turtle leaped off the cliff and went flying through 
the air. They struck the water with a splash and sank 
way down into the green regions below. After a few 
seconds they came up again and the Turtle, with Dor- 
othy Ann and the Boy still clinging to his 
armor, went swimming back to the shore. 

“There, wasn’t that fun!” cried the Boy, his won- 
derful laugh echoing from one rock cliff to the next. 

“I guess so,” said Dorothy Ann doubtfully. “I 
think if I tried it again I should enjoy it more, because 
I shouldn’t be scared next time.” 

What Dorothy Ann said was exactly true. Over 
and over again they climbed the rocks and jumped off. 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


SO 


Each time it was more fun to go whizzing 
through the air than it had been the time 
before. Any ‘‘shoot-the-chutes” ever made was tame 
in comparison to it. After the first shock Dorothy 
Ann liked to strike the clear, cold water. Sometimes 
they landed on the top of a wave, which broke about 
them into foam. While the foam floated off in all 
directions like a fleet of fairy boats, the turtle and his 
two passengers sank into the dark water below. 


As Dorothy Ann’s eyes became accustomed to the 
queer heavy look underneath, she could discover more 
and more strange fish swimming about her. It was like 
a new world of never-ending wonders, peopled with 
star-fish, sea urchins, fairy-like shells and swimming 
things of marvelous lights and colors. She would have 
liked to linger a few minutes to explore this new 
realm, if she had not been in such a hurry to climb 
the rock again and have the fun of going splash into 
the water. She was sorry indeed when the Boy said it 
was time to go back to Salem Square. 

Hardly had she sat down on the lounge in her own 
room to think over her adventures when she heard the 
front door open and voices in the hall. 


“Oh, mother, mother,” she cried, running to the 
head of the stairs. “Come up quick, I want to tell 
you all about — ” 


THE ADVENTURER IN ARMOR 5 1 

‘‘Why, Dorothy Ann,’’ interrupted her mother, 
reprovingly, “aren’t you in bed yet?” 

“Oh, no; I’ve had such a splendid time with the 
Turtle, and the Boy who takes care of him — ” 

And before she went to bed Dorothy Ann had to 
tell her mother all about her wonderful adventure. 



AMD 



O NE Stormy night Dorothy Ann was awakened out 
of a sound sleep by what she thought at first was 
thunder. But then it came again and again, so loud 
and so terrible that she knew it couldn’t be just thun- 
der. It was more like the roaring of some frightful 
beast. That afternoon she had seen the boxes at East 
Park in which were shut up the stone lions that used 
to be at the old Union Station, and she was just won- 
dering if they could have escaped when she heard a 
peck-pecking at the screen. Looking out she saw her 
old friend, the Swan.” 

‘‘Come on out and see the fun,” he said. 

“But it’s pouring,” she answered, hesitating. 

“Oh, of course, if you are afraid of the rain — ” 
the Swan began, but before he could finish his sentence 
Dorothy Ann appeared at the window, wearing her 
yellow oilskin coat over her nightgown and her sou’- 
wester pulled way down over her face and ears. 


GROWLER AND PROWLER 


S3 


‘‘Why, your back isn’t a bit wet,” she cried in 
surprise as she stepped out on it with her little bare 
feet. “I supposed I’d have to sit in a puddle.” 

“Of course not. Water slips off me just like off 
a duck’s back,” and he held his head high on 
his long neck as if he had said something very 
original indeed. 

Just then came the terrible noise again, and Doro- 
thy Ann snuggled timidly into the hollow between his 
wings. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “It is only the Lions 
at East Park. You know they have been boxed up 
for several years and they have stood it about as long 
as they will. ” 

“What can they do?” 

“Break open their boxes and get out. They have 
broken them open four times already. Then the Park 
Commissioners have to send some one to mend the 
boxes, and that annoys them, which is just what the 
Lions want to do. They think the Commissioners 
need reminding once in a while that they are still here 
and are getting mighty impatient at their long con- 
finement. There they are just below us. See how 
that board is being forced up. Ah, he has it now! 
He is putting his big paw through and breaking open 
the box. ” 



THE CLOUD BIRD 


Sure enough, just then the whole top was pushed 
up and, with a mighty roar, the Lion sprang out. The 
Swan hovered above it, so that Dorothy Ann had a 
splendid seat from which to watch the whole perform- 
ance. It had been a long time since she had seen the 
Lions at the old station and she was 
so little then she had forgotten what 
they looked like. The one below her 
was quite diiferent from any she had ever seen in a circus 
or on the merry-go-round or even in the picture books. 
To begin with it had wings from its shoulders and flew 
all about, its long body trailing after. Then it had no 
mane. 

“It had a beautiful one, once, they tell me,’’ said 
the Swan. “But it was so proud of being admired by 
all the strangers who passed it on the way into the 
station, that it used to spend the long hours between 
trains at night combing its mane with its claws, until 
it combed it all away.” 

“Oh, what a roar!” cried Dorothy Ann, “that is 
coming from the other box. They seem very wild for 
animals that have lived in captivity for so long.” 

“They are not wild; they’re just noisy. You see 
all the time they were at the station, the Boston & 
Albany trains went roaring by them, and they were 
storing up noise for future use. It’s Growler you hear 
inside the box; he makes more noise than Prowler, but 




GROWLER AND PROWLER 55 

he is always the last to get out. It won’t take him 
much longer now. ” 

Dorothy Ann watched the box eagerly. She 
could see the top give as Growler pushed upon it from 
below. Then suddenly, with a mighty crash the 
boards split, chips and splinters flying in all directions, 
and Growler, roaring flercely, leaped into the air. For 
a few minutes he flew about, his wings moving jerkily 
like a rusty toy, as if he were stiff from long confine- 
ment. But soon they limbered up and he joined 
Prowler in his flight around the park. The Swan, 
with Dorothy Ann, on his back, followed them. After 
making the circle two or three times they flew down to 
earth right at the entrance of the park. There they 
sat, one on each side, with their paws placed together 
like a tabby-kitten’s, and their wings at rest against 
their sides. Dorothy Ann waited to see what would 
happen next, but nothing at all happened. She looked 
at the Lions. To judge by the benign smiles on their 
faces, they were perfectly happy and contented. 

‘‘What are they doing she finally asked the 
Swan, a bit impatiently. 

“They are rehearsing.” 

“Rehearsing.^ For what?” 

“Why, for what they are to do for the rest of their 
lives, — guarding the entrance to this park. The only 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


S6 


trouble is that the Park Commissioners can’t decide 
just where and how to place them.” 


“Will they rehearse all night?” 

“ I don’t believe so. After all, it is only rehearsing, 
and they will soon grow indignant when they think 
how much better time they could have guarding the 
entrance in the day, when many passersby would 
admire them (I told you they were vain), and the chil- 
_ dren would stop to play with them. See, 

Growler is beginning to growl again and 
Prowler is getting restless.” 


In a minute more the tree that the Swan was rest- 
ing on began to shake and tremble with the terrific 
roars of the Lions. Dorothy Ann was a little bit fright- 
ened and clung very fast to the Swan’s neck. 

Suddenly Growler and Prowler leaped into the 
air and then started down the street, now running like 
real lions, now flying like sea-lions, but always roaring 
like all lions. 


“Let’s follow them,” said the Swan, suiting the 
action to the word. “They must have formed some 
scheme.” 


Up one street and down another they went, roar- 
ing all the way, until they reached the house of one of 
the Park Commissioners, as the Swan told Dorothy 


GROWLER AND PROWLER 


57 


Ann. To the second-story bedroom window they 
flew, and there they stopped, Prowler on the right 
and Growler on the left. Dorothy Ann had thought 
their roars were loud before, but they were as the gentle 
purring of a cat compared to what she now heard. 
The very house shook and the pillars which held up the 
front porch swayed backward and forward. Deafened 
by the noise, Dorothy Ann stopped up both ears with 
her Angers. The Swan flew over their heads and she 
r peeked through the window just in time to see 
the head of the Park Commissioner vanish 
under the bed-clothes. 



When Prowler and Growler had decided they had 
made him miserable enough for one night, they went 
on to the next. They visited each Commissioner in 
turn, the Swan and Dorothy Ann always following 
close behind. Sometimes they stole quietly up to the 
side of the window. Then Growler would wave his 
paw three times, saying under his breath: ‘‘One, two, 
three, GO!” And with “Go!” he would bring down 
both paws together and Dorothy Ann would stop up 
her ears tight, for she knew what was coming. 

But it was worse still when there were windows 
on both sides of the room. Then one Lion would get 
outside of each. Prowler would start roaring, but just 
as he was losing his breath. Growler would take it up. 
In this way they could keep a steady roar pouring and 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


S8 

pounding through the room without ever having to 
stop for breath, while the poor Park Commissioner 
would be battered from one side of the room to the 
other in his efforts to escape the racket. 

Dorothy Ann felt quite sorry for the Park Com- 
missioners before the night was over. ‘‘If they only 
knew how the Lions felt about being shut up in boxes, 
I know they would let them out in East Park,’’ she 
said over and over to the Swan. “They are really very 
kind men, you know, for it was they who brought 
you to Elm Park to take the little boys and girls to 
ride. ” 

But the Lions did not know how to explain. 

The next morning at the breakfast table the Park 
Commissioners and their neighbors talked about the 
terrible thunder storm that had frightened them during 
the night. But Dorothy Ann knew better. 



if 44. *4 






IDITOR 



S ometimes when Dorothy Ann is so sleepy that 
she is afraid she can not stay awake long enough to 
take off her clothes and crawl into bed, the very minute 
her head strikes the pillow she is as wide awake as if 
it were ten o’clock in the morning. 

“Funny,” she said one night when this happened, 
“I was so very sleepy a minute ago, and now that I 
am in bed I’m wider awake every second. I feel more 
like having some fun than going to sleep. I haven’t 
had a real adventure since I heard Growler and Prow- 
ler roar at the Park Commissioners. I think I’ll go 
out and see if I can find someone else who is wide 
awake tonight.” 

Dorothy Ann thought of all her friends who would 
not be asleep at that time. 

“The Swan will be at Elm Park, if he hasn’t gone 
flying among the clouds,” she thought. “Even if he 


6o 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


isn’t there, it will be fun just to go around the Park 
and see how it looks at night. I wonder if the fountain 
will be playing. The Blue Heron will be there anyway.” 

The Blue Heron was an old, old friend of Dorothy 
Ann’s. From the time she was a little baby she had 
always loved to be taken to Elm Park so she could see 

him, standing alone on y his island, with his long 

neck stretched upward i and his beak always 

open as if he expected to catch something. 

But this summer, since the swan boat had ar- 

rived, she had forgotten Ji all about the Heron. 
She was not even quite sure that he was still at the park. 

‘H’ll go find out,” she said. “Of course he is a 
nice bird, though he can’t compare with the Swan.” 

On reaching the park she was greeted with a sound 
that was like the chirping of birds. As she went on 
toward the Heron’s island it grew louder and louder, 
so that she was not surprised to find him surrounded 
by a great flock of little birds, of many kinds and colors. 
They all sang at once, but their songs, though different, 
harmonized into the most beautiful music Dorothy 
Ann had ever heard. It was like the sound of the fairy 
orchestra which she imagined must play at the ball 
of the fairy queen. 

Suddenly the Fleron spied Dorothy Ann. 


THE CITY EDITOR 


6l 


‘‘Go ask Dorothy Ann for some news,” sang the 
Heron, and all the little Birds answered; “We’ll do it! 
We’ll do it!” 

With that they spread their wings and flew in a 
mass over to her. They whirled about her, this way 
and that, until for a moment she was so dazzled by 
the changing colors that she could hardly tell one from 
another. Then they became quieter. One perched 
on her shoulder, and another, following his example, 
rested on her hand. She spread out both arms inviting- 
ly and in a minute they were covered with the Birds. 
Seeing the welcome given their fellows, others settled 
on her shoulders, a row perched on top of her patent 
leather belt, some clung to the trimming of her dress, 
and the very little ones nestled in the hollow of her 
hand. Glancing down she caught her reflection in the 
water. She looked indeed as though she were clothed 
in a fairy dress, made of feathers of scarlet, green, 
yellow, blue, and all the rich colors in which the birds 
deck themselves. 

“Give us some news, some news,” they cried. 
“Oh, Dorothy Ann, can’t you give us some 
news.^” 

“Why do they want news?” asked Dorothy 
Ann of the Heron, who had flown over from his 
island, and was standing by, watching the Birds. 



62 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


‘‘Because they are news agents,” he answered. 
“Didn’t you ever hear people say, when asked where 
they had heard certain news: ‘Oh, a little bird told 


know they meant it.” 

do. These are the re- 
paper. I am the City 


“Yes, but I didn’t 
“Of course they 



porters for the daily 
Editor.” 

“Oh!” said Dor- 


othy Ann, much im- 


pressed. She had never heard of a city editor before, 
but she knew from the way the Heron held up his head 
that it must be something pretty fine. 

“They are bringing in their news now, and it is 
my^duty to edit it, and get it into shape to be whispered 
into the ears of our subscribers in the morning. Our 
paper is called ‘The Morning Whisperer.’” 

“But where do you get the news.^” 

“The Birds go pecking around the city and 
collect a good deal. They interview all kinds of people. 
Oh, no, of course the people don’t know it, but that 
always makes for the best interviews anyway. Then 
I get wind of a great many things myself. You see, 
the Wind and I are old friends, and I catch many items 
from him as he sweeps over the pond.” 


“So that is what you are catching. I always 


THE CITY EDITOR 63 

knew from the way you held your mouth open that 
you were catching something.” 

By this time the Birds were singing so loud that 
Dorothy Ann had to pay attention to them. ‘‘Give 
us some news, some news ! Oh, Dorothy Ann, 
can’t you give us some news.^” 

Dorothy Ann gave them all the news she could 
think of, which wasn’t much — but the Heron told her 
not to feel badly about it, because in the middle of the 
summer news is pretty scarce, anyway. Then the 
reporters all spread their wings and flew off singing in 
chorus: “Thank you, oh, thank you. Miss Dorothy 
Ann. If there’s anything more, will you please let 
us know.” 

As their song was dying away, Dorothy Ann turned 
and saw the Swan, silently gliding toward her. 

“How-de-do, Dorothy Ann,” he said. “Don’t 
you want to take a ride around the Pond?” 

“I’d love to!” she cried. Then she noticed 
the angry look on the Heron’s face. He was 
glaring at the Swan, who stretched out his long 
neck and hissed at the tall bird above him, say- 
ing: “Don’t you wish you could swim? Then you 
might be of use in this pond. ” 

“I should hope you could do something 
to pay slightly for all the care you get,” 




64 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


announced the Heron. ‘‘The luxury in which the 
younger generation is growing up is ridiculous. A bath 
once a week in soft soap! Ugh! Such nonsense!’’ 


“But I am sure you can do many things that the 
Swan can’t, ” put in Dorothy Ann, trying to ward off a 
quarrel. “If you’d rather. I’ll not go with him,” she 
added, looking a trifle wistfully at the Swan’s soft back 
and the glittering water. 


No, go ahead. Don’t stay on my account.” 
And with that the Heron marched off haughtily 



“I am afraid I have made him angry,” said 
Dorothy Ann, as she settled herself on the 
Swan’s back. 


“Oh, no, he acts that way every time I come 
around,” answered the Swan. “He is jealous because 
all the children, who used to think he was lovely, pay 
no attention to him whenever I am here. He is turning 
green with jealousy, which is a shame because his blue 
coat is the best part of him.” 


“Oh, he mustn’t turn green,” cried Dorothy Ann 
in distress. “We mustn’t let him do that.” 


“I don’t know how we can help it,” said the Swan, 
indifferently. 

They had a lovely ride through the meres and 
everything went well until Dorothy Ann dropped her 


THE CITY EDITOR 


6s 


new handkerchief with the blue border into the water. 
With a cry, she leaned over to pick it up, when the 
Swan, startled at the sound, turned suddenly in the 
other direction. That made her lose her balance and 
over she went with a splash into the pond. 

She was thoroughly frightened, for the water was 
above her head. But she came to the top and in a 
minute had her arms around the Swan’s neck. 

“My, but that scared me,” she said, sputtering. 
“Now how am I ever going to get on your back again 

“Why, climb right up,” said the Swan. 

But that was easier said than done. She tried 
to get a hold on his wings, but there was nothing to 
cling to. Time after time she started to climb up on 
his back, but she would always go slipping off down into 
the water again. Then the Swan would have to get 
hold of her with his beak and pull her back to the sur- 
face. At last she succeeded in getting one leg over his 
back. 

“Now, lift yourself up,” cried the Swan, 
hunching his wing to help her along. 

And Dorothy Ann did lift, but she lifted herself 
so hard that she went sliding down the other side 
She understood now what the Swan had meant that 
time he had spoken of water sliding so easily off a duck’s 
back. 



66 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


“What shall I do?” cried Dorothy Ann, trying 
hard to keep from crying. “I simply can’t climb up, 
and I’m wet and cold and so tired I can’t even hold on 
much longer.” 

“I don’t know. I’ll try to tow you ashore.” 

But the Swan could not swim with Dorothy Ann 
holding on to his neck, and there was no other part of 
him on which she could get a grip. He himself was 
helpless, and he could feel her hold grow weaker as she 
became more fatigued. They were both on the brink 
of despair when they heard a voice from the shore. 

“Want some help?” 

They turned and saw the Heron. Before they 
could answer, he was wading out toward them. He 
was so tall that he could go way out beyond Dorothy 
Ann’s head. But even so, the anxious couple were 
afraid they were beyond his depth, too. When he 
reached them, however, his head was still above water. 

“Step on my back,” he said in a commanding 
tone. Dorothy Ann did so without waiting for a sec- 
ond invitation. She held on to his neck just below 
his head and only her own head and shoulders were 
out of water. As they waded ashore, the Birds came 
flocking from all directions, making Dorothy Ann laugh 
and forget how tired and cold she was by the funny 
questions they kept pouring upon her. 



When he reached them, his head was still above the water 



68 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


“Why have they all come back?’’ she asked. 
“Why, reporters always flock to the scene of a 
rescue,” answered the Swan. “It will be spread every- 
where and will be the talk of the town by morning. ” 
And sure enough, they were all reporting. Each 
had pulled out one of his feathers for a quill pen, and 
they were all writing as fast as they could on leaves 
taken from the trees, asking questions and taking 
notes furiously all the time. 

“You will be the hero of the story. Heron,” said 
Dorothy Ann. “Don’t you ever dare be jealous of the 
Swan again nor let him say you 
are of no use in the pond. If it 
were not for you, I should be 
struggling out there yet. And what- 
ever you do, please don’t turn 
green with jealousy, because I love 
your beautiful blue coat. ” 

“I shall never be jealous 
again,” said the Heron, “and I 
should hate to have my coat turn 
green. It has caught this deep 
shade of blue through years of 
contact with the sky above, and 
the reflection in the pond below.” 



D orothy ANN loved mystery; still she was quite 
curious to know what was going to happen. She 
saw it would be of no use to ask questions of the Swan, 
who would tell her nothing, and decided it would be 
more sensible to enjoy the present than to wonder 
about the future. So she gave herself up to the fun 
she was having. 

When all was said and done, there was no place 
so pleasant to be as on the cool white feathers into 
which she sank. That afternoon she had been on 
the merry-go-round. It was Labor Day and her special 
holiday treat had been a trip to the Lake, where she 
had had a splendid gallop on a great pacing black steed. 

“But after all,’’ she said to herself, “he was not 
half so nice as the Swan.” 

Just then she noticed that the merry-go-round 
was right in front of them and that the Swan, suddenly 
beginning to descend, was headed straight for it. 


70 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


‘‘Oh, I know where we are going!” she cried in 
delight. 

Sure enough, the Swan flew in through the window 
and landed right on the merry-go-round. The change 
from the forward motion to the rapid whirling confused 
Dorothy Ann so that she could see only 
dim shapes flying through the air beside 
her. She seemed to be no longer on the 
Swan’s back, but found herself suddenly 
astride her friend of the afternoon, the pacing Black 
Steed. As the merry-go-round died down, she could 
make out the dim shapes more distinctly, and they 
all seemed to be looking at her. 

The one directly in front of her was so big that she 
could see nothing beyond him. She had not noticed 
such an enormous creature there in the afternoon. 
It was as big as her friend the Polar Bear. Indeed it 
looked quite like him. In fact it was so much like 
him that Dorothy Ann decided it must be his twin 
brother. 

“ How-de-do he growled in a growl that 
sounded strangely familiar to her. “Aren’t you 
recognizing your old friends tonight.^” 

“Why, it is, — it really is you, my own big Polar 
Bear, ” cried Dorothy Ann, taking one flying leap into 
his great furry arms. She was greeted with a laugh 




THE SURPRISE PARTY 


71 


from all the other shapes around her. It was a strange 
laugh, great and joyous, but a mixture of many sounds 
which were queer in themselves, yet quite natural to 
her. Looking about her once more, she understood. 
The laugh was made up of the roar of lions, the crowing 
of a rooster, the singing of a great flock of little birds, 
and above it all the wonderful woodnotes of a faun. 
For, you see, she was surrounded by all her friends of 
the summer. 

“What is it?” she cried, “a surprise party?” 

“Exactly,” said the Heron, who always took it 
upon himself to give all the information there 
was to be given. “A surprise and a farewell 
party?” 

“Farewell?” asked Dorothy Ann. “Where 
are you going?” 

“We are not going anywhere, ” answered the Swan. 
“But your little friends are returning from the moun- 
tains and the sea-shore, and tomorrow your school 
begins, so you will no longer need us. We came to 
you in the summer when you were lonesome.” 

“Oh, but I shall hate to be left alone,” began 
Dorothy Ann. 

“Tut, tut,” interrupted the Rooster, “we are 
down here for some fun and not to waste our time like 
this. The merry-go-round is starting.” 



72 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


In a minute the merry-go-round was 
whirling again at a terrific speed. 

‘‘Where are the rest of the horses.^” 
shouted Dorothy Ann, above the noise of the music. 

“They are having a night off,” answered the 
Black Steed. “They worked so hard today that they 
were given a vacation. But I stayed to see you again. ” 

By this time the merry-go-round was in full swing. 
As the music grew louder one after another of the 
riders began to sing. A strange sound it was, made up 
of the .many different voices. But the tune was so 
catchy that Dorothy Ann was soon singing as lustily 
as the best of them, all the time whirling around and 
around. It took her no time at all to learn the words 
which were: 

“Oh, when we hear the festive music sound. 

The music sound. 

Like lightning we are off with leap and bound. 

With leap and bound; 

Make no effort to contain us. 

There is naught that will restrain us. 

For we’re bound for foreign travels on the merry-go- 
round, go-round. 

For travels on the whirling merry-go-round!” 

As they went, they seemed to fly from one strange 
land into another until Dorothy Ann was quite con- 



THE SURPRISE PARTY 


73 


fused. In the wink of an eye, they passed from the 
city to the country, from the mountains to the sea- 
shore, from coldest Greenland to the sunny South. 
About them swarmed a mass of people, birds, beasts, 
and all creatures, flying and running, howling and 
roaring, doing all strange things and making all strange 
noises till her brain itself was in a perfect whirl. 

“What does it mean.^” she asked. 

“Why, the merry-go-round carries every one of 
us oflf into the lands of our own fancy,’’ explained the 
Swan. “You are trying to go with all of us at once; 
that’s what makes you so confused.” 

“We’d better take her one at a time, I should 
think, ” said the Boy on the Turtle’s back. 

“All right, you go first,” answered the Swan. 

Thereupon the music started up again and every- 
one jumped off except Dorothy Ann, the 
Boy, and the Turtle. 

In a minute she was whizzing through the green 
woods and deep mysterious forests, where unaffrighted 
animals sprang from their hiding places of a minute 
before and all birds in the trees united in a joyous song. 
Above the others Dorothy Ann could distinguish the 
clear, flute-like voice of the Faun-Boy. The words 
he sang were: 



74 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


‘‘Waken, oh birds, there is nothing to fear. 

Waken, oh bunnies, and foxes, and deer. 

To the heart of your world are we whirling tonight. 
Of the secret of nature to learn the delight. ’’ 

When at last they were going so fast that Dorothy 
Ann could no longer see anything about her, all the 
animals seemed to join in the chorus, and again she 
was singing with them: 

“Oh, when we hear the festive music sound. 

The music sound. ” 

At the end of the chorus, the merry-go-round 
slowed down a trifle and she was astonished to find 
herself no longer in the green woods. Ever3rwhere 
about her was just one vast stretch of endless white. 
They seemed to be breaking their way through ice- 
bergs and passing over mountains of snow. Br-r-r! 
It was cold! As she shivered, she felt herself being 

f lifted into a great blanket of warm white fur. 
Looking up, she found herself in the Bear’s arms. 
In his deep, bass voice he was singing to her: 

“Away to the lands of the North let us go. 

Whizzing through regions of ice and of snow. 

Where the low midnight sun sheds its marvelous light. 
On the slow moving icebergs to left and to right!” 


THE SURPRISE PARTY 


75 


Again came the fast whirl and the chorus. 
Gradually the old familiar friends faded away and 
dim shapes took their places beside Dorothy Ann. 
Quaintly dressed little boys and girls stood by her, 
looking timidly at the great golden Rooster upon which 
she found herself sitting. Loud crowed the Rooster, 
its crows turning suddenly into the song: 

“Back do we whirl o’er the years that are passed. 
Years I have watched as they flew by so fast; 
Crowding about us are phantoms and shapes. 
Clothed in quaint costumes and Puritan capes.” 


Once more came the chorus, which grew louder 
and louder, wilder and wilder with the rapidly whirling 
merry-go-round, until Dorothy Ann thought it sounded 
more like a roar of wild beasts than a song. She was 
not surprised, therefore, to make out the forms of 
• Growler and Prowler, standing one ' 
on each side of her. Like the noise 
of distant thunder came their song: 


m ■ 


IT 


“Like the engines we watched in the days of old. 
As under the arch of the station they rolled. 

So prowling and growling we whirl around. 
Rumbling and grumbling with frightful sound.” 


The next chorus rang clear and musical after the 
growling of the lions. Sweeter it grew until Dorothy 
Ann knew that she was surrounded by the flock of 


76 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


little Bird Reporters. But they seemed to enjoy 
the rapid motion even more than her former 
companions. Faster and faster they flew in a 
perfect frenzy, singing: 

“For news let us tear through this turbulent land, 
Seeking forever a story off-hand. 

To fires and to car-strikes, wrecks, theatres, and fairs, — 
So long as it’s news, where we go no one cares. ” 

Gradually the singing of the birds grew less excited 
and more like those Dorothy Ann had heard in the 
woods when she went riding with the Boy and the 
Turtle. The whir of fire engines and the clashing of 
trains vanished, and softer, gentler sounds filled the air. 
The black smoke of the cities dissolved into a thin 
mist, which took upon itself all colors, and formed an 
arch like a rainbow above the rapidly moving merry- 
go-round. Dorothy Ann was dazzled for a minute 
by the mass of color flashing before her, but as her eyes 
became used to it she could make out the shapes of 
tiny dancing creatures. 

“Can it be fairyland and those the fairies.^” she 
asked aloud. Turning, she found the Fisher 

Boy and knew that it ^ was Fairyland indeed. 

The fairies, in their flight, touched her bright cheeks and 
her little bare feet and peered under her eye-lashes to 
catch their own fair reflections in her gleaming eyes. 



THE SURPRISE PARTY 77 

Upon her finger tips they dropped their fairy fish of all 
the beautiful colors that wishes are made of. 

“Now I know why I have had such a happy, 
happy summer!” she cried in delight. “It is because 
I caught the wonderful Fairy Fish which was a promise 
of joy to the stay-at-home person.” 

But the Fisher Boy answered only by joining in 
the song the fairies were singing to the soft accom- 
paniment of bell-like music: 

“From the haunts of the fairies in woodland dell, 
We dance to the music of tinkling bell. 

And each flings aloft a fairy fish 
Which is caught by you as a fairy wish, 

The token of our farewell!” 


On and on Dorothy Ann floated amid the wonder- 
ful sounds and colors. She put out her hands 
and felt the soft cool of what she thought 
must be the fairies’ wings. 



“Why,” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know they were 
made of real feathers. ” 


There were so many of them that they seemed to 
surround her. She could feel them against her cheek, 
tickling the back of her neck, and under the soles of her 
little bare feet. She could feel nothing else, she could 
see nothing else, she was wrapped in them. 


78 


THE CLOUD BIRD 


Gradually it came over her that she was no longer 
on the merry-go-round, but was floating through the 
air, — yet still with the fairies, for she felt sure they 
would never leave her. On and on, through the clouds 
and stars into that great mysterious sky of night she 
sailed, borne aloft by the Cloud Bird. 
















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